


Checking Out

by elle_gee



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Fluff, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Self-Esteem Issues, librarian Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-10-14 05:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20595626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elle_gee/pseuds/elle_gee
Summary: Steve had definitely never seen this man before - he’d have noticed those icy gray-blue eyes, the long mop of dark brown hair, the broad and muscled chest. He was gorgeous. Beautiful people were kind of a rarity in his library branch, and this one was headed straight for Steve. He was going to have to talk to Hottie McHandsome....or, the library AU nobody asked for. Librarian Steve meets hot patron Bucky, and before he knows it, he's falling hard.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a fluffy one-shot and now it's definitely got a few chapters, oops. Unbeta'd, so read at your own risk!

There were few things Steve liked less than being the Saturday librarian. Cats, for sure. Horror movies too. And those times when the Chinese takeout place left his egg rolls out of his order. But Saturdays at the reference desk were long and unrelenting like nothing else he’d ever experienced. Even with an hour-long lunch break in the middle, it felt like there was no reprieve from grumpy, demanding patrons. There were only so many times Steve could say, “please take up any issues with account fines at Circulation,” or “please, no food in the library,” without wanting to walk into the goddamn ocean. 

So on Saturdays, Steve tried to find little moments of relief (and even occasional happiness) wherever he could. A small child no more than four, pretending to read the encyclopedia while waiting for her mom to pick out books. Teenagers playing footsie under the table, flirting silently as they pretended to study for an exam. An elderly man scanning an article about his granddaughter that had run in the paper, who needed a little help running the copy machine but was so grateful to Steve for helping him figure it out.

And then there was the dark-haired man.

Steve had definitely never seen him before - he’d have noticed those icy gray-blue eyes, the long mop of dark brown hair, the broad and muscled chest. He was gorgeous. Beautiful people were kind of a rarity in his library branch, and it was obvious Steve wasn’t the only one who noticed this man - a quick glance over to Sam at the circulation desk and Sharon over in the fiction stacks revealed quite a bit of ogling on their end, too. But this man was headed straight for Steve, who gulped nervously as he realized he was going to have to talk to Hottie McHandsome. He quickly smoothed his sweater and straightened his glasses, making it look like he was looking something up on the computer as the man approached.

“Hi.” 

Steve looked up and met the man’s gaze. There was something edgy, yet soft about him that Steve couldn’t really put a finger on. “Um, hi. Welcome to the Flatbush Library. Can I help you find something?” He did his best not to completely stutter or drool as he spoke.

“You guys have public computers I can use, yeah?”

Steve motioned to the area to his left with computer carrels. “Right over here. Do you, uh, have a library card? If not, we can set you up with a guest pass.” A guest pass meant getting the beautiful man’s name, and for once, Steve hoped that someone didn’t have a library card. First time for everything, he thought to himself just before the man spoke again. 

“No, but I should probably get one, huh?”

Steve smiled. “I just need your name for a temporary guest pass, good for up to three hours. You can see the Circulation desk on your way out to get a library card, but you’ll need photo ID or proof of residence.” 

The man looked at the floor nervously. “Will military ID work?”

“Circulation can take a look when you head over there.” Steve tried not to sound too anxious as he opened up a new window to set up a guest pass. “Just need your first and last name.”

The man looked at him again with a shy almost-smile. “Uh, it’s Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky Barnes. A nice , if unusual, name, Steve thought as he typed it in and printed a pass. “You’ll just need to type in your name and the numbers printed below it on here,” he said, handing over the flimsy slip of paper, “and you’ll be all set. If you need anything else, my name’s Steve, and I’m, um, happy to help?” 

The last bit almost sounded like a question with how nervous Steve was. Normally he had a great library poker face - a friendly smile and sugar-sweet voice he put on to help even the rudest of patrons. But the man - Bucky, Steve reminded himself - somehow had an effect that even he couldn’t put his usual wall up for. He was absolutely weak. 

And of course, making Steve even weaker, Bucky actually smiled at him as he took the pass. “Thanks, Steve,” he said quietly, nodding before turning to find an open computer station. The view of his backside was almost as good as his front, and Steve struggled not to gape at how well the man filled out a thin white t-shirt and dark jeans. From this view, it also looked like the man’s left arm was swinging oddly - a prosthetic, Steve quickly realized. He filed that away in his brain for later.

“It should be a fucking crime to look like that,” Sharon suddenly said from behind Steve, causing the small man to, quite literally, jump out of his seat. He regained his composure as quickly as he could, setting his glasses straight on his nose and hoping Bucky didn’t hear or see him panic like that. “Language, Sharon,” he scolded, taking a deep breath before turning back to his computer. He had a lot of emails to get through, orders to place for the adult nonfiction collection, and the inevitable continued slew of patron demands to answer to. But every few minutes, he found himself looking over to where Bucky sat, smiling for just a moment that he had such a nice distraction on this particular Saturday.

********************

“So apparently, Sergeant Dreamy Eyes is gonna be here quite a bit,” Sam said, low enough that only Steve could hear as they exited the library. It took the blonde man a few moments to realize who he was talking about before his eyes went wide. “Bucky? How do you know?” Steve stopped for a moment as the doors closed behind them, checking to make sure the automatic lock had worked, before they made their way to their usual Saturday post-work spot. It wasn’t much - a local dive with cheap beer specials and decent burgers, dark and secluded and an unlikely spot to run into any regular patrons (the real appeal, if you asked both Steve and Sam). They walked slowly tonight, enjoying the cool fall air after being trapped inside the entire day. 

“Mhm. Made some small talk as I got him a library card. Sergeant James Barnes, goes by Bucky. Honorably discharged from the Army about two months ago, using the computers to look for a job after an unfortunate incident involving his laptop and a can of Coke.” Sam waggled his eyebrows at Steve. “I already have fifty bucks on you offering to swap shifts so you’re on the reference desk every time he’s here.”

Steve groaned, punching Sam in the arm softly. “You’re a dick, Wilson.” A dick who’s probably right, he added mentally, not that he’d ever admit that. But the idea of seeing Bucky again definitely made the thought of reference desk shifts much more tolerable. He felt his cheeks flush at the thought.

“I mean it, man. And hey, maybe he’s into scrawny nerds and we can finally get you laid!” Sam chuckled, his grin wide. “You never know.”

“No, I do,” Steve said with a sigh, rounding a corner and catching sight of the bar’s neon sign. “I’m definitely not the type of a guy like that.”

“Dude, all you know is his name. How the hell do you know what his type is?”

“Because,” Steve whined, “guys like that - the ones that look like walking fucking Michelangelo statues - they don’t look at me twice, Sam.” He didn’t mean to sound as down as he did, but it was the truth. Most people, but especially not muscled army vets with eyes like Bucky’s, noticed Steve. At five-four, a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet, and usually fighting no less than three medical issues, Steve was the first to say he wasn’t a catch. Once he’d reached college and realized puberty was just never going to quite do its job, he’d resigned himself to being a really good wingman, never once going after anyone himself. Why try when you’ll just be disappointed?, he’d told himself. 

“You never know,” Sam said with a devious smile as they approached the bar. The door creaked open and they found their usual corner booth, sticky and a little smelly but so familiar. Steve and Sam both pointedly avoided any further conversation about the hot sergeant during dinner, instead gossiping about problematic patrons, lazy coworkers, and books they both wanted to read. If Sam noticed that Steve was a little distant, maybe preoccupied, he didn’t say anything. Steve figured Sam didn’t need to know that he was more than a little distracted by thoughts of ice blue eyes, muscled abs thinly veiled by white cotton tees, and thighs worth drooling over. 

And if Steve kept thinking those thoughts once he was home alone, locked in his bathroom with some tissues and a bottle of lotion? Sam didn’t need to know that, either.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You almost made me spill my coffee,” Steve grumbled, his eyes narrowing at Peggy.
> 
> “Yes, love, but if you hadn’t been on cloud nine looking at Mr. Beautiful over there, it wouldn’t have been an issue. And I’ve told you a thousand times, if you’re going to be clumsy, buy yourself a travel mug with a lid.” 
> 
> ...or, Peggy meddles and Steve doesn't know whether to yell at her or thank her.

Just as Sam had said, Bucky Barnes was back at the library Monday afternoon. Not that Steve had been waiting for him. He definitely hadn’t looked up from his emails and the books he was cataloging all morning, hoping for a glimpse of the man’s brown locks, blue eyes, or thick thighs walking into his department. And if he had offered, ever so graciously, to cover Peggy’s shift on the desk that afternoon, it was solely so that she could catch up on planning the various book club programs she hosted. It certainly wasn’t to maximize the chance of an encounter with Bucky. And he definitely didn’t owe Sam fifty bucks for swapping shifts. Nope. 

And yet, just when Steve had lost hope (okay, maybe he was waiting for Bucky), the man had walked in, looking downright delectable in a leather jacket, tee, and worn-in jeans. Steve felt his arms and legs immediately turn to jelly, his usually precise typing quickly becoming near-gibberish as he attempted feebly to hit the right keys. He tried to minimize his obvious, gaping stare as Bucky made his way to the reference desk.

“Hi, Steve,” he said with a soft smile. 

Steve waved awkwardly, immediately regretting it before speaking. “You, uh, remembered. My name.” He offered a goofy, nervous grin.

Bucky chuckled, motioning to his chest, and Steve looked down at his own, noticing what was pinned to the lapel of his cardigan. Duh. His name tag. He was a total idiot. Steve felt his cheeks flush scarlet with embarrassment. 

Clearly noticing the embarrassment, Bucky offered an apologetic look. “Sorry. Not great with names,” he said. “So, uh, I got my library card Saturday. Do I still need a computer pass?”

Steve tried his best to use his “patron voice,” calm and reassured and confident, but still spoke a little shakily. “Um, no, you just enter your name and library card number instead of the guest pass number. Should be all good. Anything else I can help with?” He desperately hoped the man needed a book recommendation, or didn’t understand the Dewey Decimal System, or something that would extend their conversation. 

“Nope,” Bucky replied, popping the “p” at the end. The action practically made Steve swoon. “Thanks, man.” He turned quickly and headed toward the nearest open computer, and once again, Steve couldn’t help but watch him walk away. He had the nicest butt Steve had probably ever seen, not that Steve had much experience in the butt department. Or any department involving the body of a hot guy, really. 

As Bucky settled in at the computer, Steve went back to his work, but once again found himself stopping every couple of minutes, sneaking a quick look at Bucky. Part of him hoped the man would turn around so Steve could gaze at his gorgeous eyes. The rest of him prayed he didn’t get caught staring quite so obviously.

Turns out it wasn’t Bucky he needed to be worried would catch him ogling.

“Like what you see over at the computers, darling?” A distinctly English accent spoke from behind him, completely startling Steve (again) and making him jump out of his chair. He nearly knocked over his coffee mug as he flailed, but managed to catch it before it spilled on any books, papers, or technology he needed at the desk. He took a moment to settle himself and his things before turning to face Peggy with a scowl.

“You almost made me spill my coffee,” he grumbled, his eyes narrowing at his colleague and friend. 

“Yes, love, but if you hadn’t been on cloud nine looking at Mr. Beautiful over there, it wouldn’t have been an issue. And I’ve told you a thousand times, if you’re going to be clumsy, buy yourself a travel mug with a lid.” She grinned as she took the empty seat beside Steve, logging into the computer. “Anyways, you never answered my question. Do you like what you see?”

Steve knew there was no use lying to Peggy - not only did he have a terrible poker face, but she’d see right through it if he did. “Don’t you? I mean… Pegs, look at him.” Steve turned back to look at Bucky - even with his back turned, his long hair caught the light perfectly, his back muscles filled out his t-shirt beautifully, and those legs… Steve had thought about those legs on more than one occasion already. 

“Well, let’s see if he bats for your team then, shall we?” Peggy retorted, a sly grin forming on her cherry-red lips as she eyed the man Steve had spent the afternoon lusting over. 

“Pegs, wait, no - goddammit.”

She was off before he could even stop her, and Steve gulped, his throat suddenly dry and his heart racing. Ordinarily, he could trust Peggy with just about anything, but right now? Right now, he didn’t trust her to just ask the guy out for him. Not when Peggy had practically made it her life’s mission to find someone for him. 

Steve watched closely as Peggy talked to Bucky, noticing little things she was doing to try and get his attention. Standing close, a hand haphazardly touching his shoulder, a laugh that was a little louder than it probably needed to be, a tug on her shirt to make the neckline just a bit lower. Before he knew it, she was turning back toward him, making her way back to the desk. 

“Pretty sure he’s yours for the taking, dear,” she said with a smirk, smoothing her skirt as she sat down at the neighboring computer. “No interest in me whatsoever, even if I flirted a bit. But when I mentioned you, he seemed captivated.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Steve said, knowing full well that Peggy was one of the most honest and direct people he knew, and that she probably wasn’t exaggerating at all.

“I really do think it’s worth a shot. Just do me a favor and don’t do anything mushy on the clock? If it doesn’t work out, I don’t want to have to reprimand you for harassing a patron.” Peggy loved reminding Steve that technically, as head of Adult Services, she was his boss, even if they’d been friends since college. 

Steve couldn’t help but smile. “See, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem. Because guys like that -” he motioned to the muscled hunk of perfection at the computers vaguely -” don’t date underweight, skinny, asthmatic dudes who pick too many fights and spill coffee almost daily.” 

“For someone who’s so anti-bullying, you sure do bully yourself quite a bit,” Peggy said, not a trace of a smile on her face anymore. Without another word, she turned to her computer and opened her email, clearly ending the conversation and leaving Steve to his thoughts.

He couldn’t help but admit to himself that she might just have a point. He was pretty harsh on himself - talking himself down to friends and dates, using far too many self-deprecating jokes. But it was hard for Steve to see the good in himself. Sometimes it took nudges like this, from friends like Peggy, to help him remember that he had a lot to offer. His love of literature and art (especially his drawing abilities), his willingness to always stick up for the little guy, the relationship he’d had with his Ma before she’d passed. His smile - even if he was a tiny, frail guy, he smiled a lot, and it was nice.

Dammit, Peggy was going to love being right. Again.

********************

Two hours later, Bucky stood from the computer carrel he’d been sitting at, stretching his arms above his head for a moment before heading back to the desk. Steve noticed out of the corner of his eye as he helped a patron put a hold on Michelle Obama’s memoir, and did his best not to drool at the small glimpse he got of perfectly-toned abdominal muscles when the other man’s shirt rode up slightly. And then, he realized Bucky was waiting. At the desk. For him. When Peggy was clearly free to help.

Peggy noticed too, shooting Steve an “I Told You So” sort of look before standing to busy herself with some shelf reading. Steve finished placing the hold for his patron and sent her to Sam at Circulation for any other inquiries before getting Bucky with a nervous smile.

“Hi. Done with the computers?”

“Yeah, got a bunch done. Thanks.” Bucky smiled softly back at Steve. “Hoping this round of applications actually goes somewhere. Meantime, got any books on how to write a better resume?”

Steve let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in. Libraries and books? He could talk about those for hours without getting nervous, even to a cute guy. “Yeah, that’ll be nonfiction, in the 650s? Let’s go take a look.” He stood from his desk and headed for the nonfiction stacks, hoping Bucky was following. 

As he browsed the section, he quickly found a whole section on resumes, cataloged under 650.142. “Here you are. This half of the shelf is what you’re looking for,” he said, motioning to the collection he’d found. “Let me know if there is something you’d like but you aren’t finding - another branch might have it, and we can have it sent over for you.”

Bucky grinned, pulling a couple books from the shelf. “Thanks, dude. And um…” The man’s voice trailed off, almost nervously. “Maybe if I get one of these jobs, I can, um, take you to dinner?” He twirled a lock of his hair around a finger and glanced at Steve with a look of eager anticipation.

Holy shit. Holy shit. Sergeant Dreamy Eyes was asking him to dinner. For real.

“Um, yeah, sure? Dinner, yes. When you get a job. Or sooner. I’m usually free? After work, that is. Yeah.” Steve sputtered out his words nervously, hoping he didn’t sound like a total idiot, and offered Bucky a smile. “I’d love to get dinner with you,” he finally managed without stammering.

“Great. Friday. Library closes at six, right? I’ll meet you on the steps.” And with a final grin, Bucky was off to check out his books, and Steve was left in the stacks, smiling like an idiot. He had a date with possibly the hottest guy that had ever walked into his library. Now, he just needed to make it to Friday evening without combusting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Library people, please correct me if 650.142 isn't the Dewey for resumes! I went off my experience in libraries (and my current place of employment's catalog). 
> 
> The big date will be coming next! Thanks for sticking with me! I'll try and be faster with the next update <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky takes Steve on a date. Fluff ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE, I'VE BEEN SO SICK! Please take my apology in the form of 2500+ words of fluffy date cuteness.

“Ugh, fuck, not this one either.”

Steve pulled the pale pink v-neck sweater over his head, tossing it into the haphazard mountain of discarded clothes on his bed. It was strange, getting ready for work and knowing he also had to be ready for a date with one of the most attractive men he’d ever laid eyes on. Everything he usually wore to work felt too stuffy and buttoned-up, and everything he’d wear on a date looked far too casual, especially since he was leading a film screening and discussion in tandem with the local senior center in the afternoon. He was pretty sure the lovely old women wouldn’t appreciate a tight tee and leather jacket the way Bucky might.

Ugh. Bucky. Steve would be lying if he said he hadn’t spent practically every waking moment throughout the week thinking about that man. Those gorgeous eyes, impeccable build, long locks of hair… he was the kind of hot most people only found half-naked on the covers of romance novels, especially the ones his ladies in film club liked to check out. Bucky was the subject of blissful, sinful day dreams and regular dreams for Steve, a few of them ending very, very happily (and requiring a bit of cleanup). 

And then there was Steve. Scrawny, mouthy, and still not quite sure he understood how a guy like Bucky wanted to take a guy like him out on a Friday night. A small part of him worried it was some kind of practical joke, and that at some point during the date, Ashton Kutcher would pop out with a camera and tell him he’d been Punk’d. But he still had to get through a whole day at work - he’d either be perfectly distracted, and six o’clock would arrive before he even knew it, or he’d be counting the seconds.

Steve finally settled on the royal blue sweater Peggy had insisted he buy, even though it felt a little small. No collared shirt underneath, for once - just a plain white undershirt, as well as a pair of slim black jeans. He did his best to smooth his messy blonde hair down, and decided to wear his glasses - he actually wanted to be able to see his date, especially if they were sitting in a dark restaurant or bar. Not that he knew anything about where they were goin. This was entirely in Bucky’s hands, and Steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious where their night would take them. 

Grabbing his bag from the coffee table and last night’s leftovers from the fridge for his lunch, Steve headed for the door. He just had to make it through the day. Eight hours, including a lunch break. He could do it.

********************

“I can’t do it.”

Steve was frozen in his office, messenger bag on his shoulder, realizing in that moment that he was about to walk outside and meet Bucky. The day had been long, and he’d mostly been excited about the date, daydreaming about dinner and drinks and intimate conversation as he helped patrons find books and hosted his book group. One of his regulars had commented that he looked a little spacey, but he’d shrugged it off.

But now, as he was about to actually go on said date? Now he was nervous as hell. Luckily, an arm from behind him rested on his shoulder slowly, and Sam’s calm voice filled the room.

“You can, dude. He might be intimidatingly hot, but he wouldn’t have asked you out if he wasn’t interested in your scrawny hipster ass. You got this.” Steve turned to face the man, a small smile spreading on his face, and he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. 

“Okay. Okay. Maybe I can.” Steve shook out his shoulders and stood as tall as he could, adjusting his bag on his shoulder and heading toward the front. Sure enough, he spotted blue-grey eyes and dark hair through the windows in the library’s front doors, and was instantly weak in the knees. Bucky looked good. Tight olive-green pants, a black shirt, and a charcoal gray cardigan that Steve wanted to wrap them both in for the rest of the night, it looked so cozy. The moment the other man saw Steve, his eyes lit up and he grinned, too. 

Checking to make sure that the building was clear with the security guard, Steve did one last set of checks. As he and Sam exited, they locked the front doors, checked they were actually locked for good measure, and waved goodbye as Steve met Bucky at the bottom of the steps. 

“Hi,” Steve said, eyes and grin both wide. “Thanks for meeting me here.”

“Hey, I asked you out, no need to thank me. Figured this was easiest for both of us - I only live a few blocks away.” Bucky smiled, his blue eyes soft and warm. “It’s a nice night - are you okay with walking a couple blocks? The restaurant isn’t far.” 

Steve tried to subtly tap his front pocket, checking for the familiar outline of his inhaler. It was there. “Yep! Let’s go.”

As they started to walk, Steve realized how observant Bucky really was. There was no way a hulking, six-foot muscled man walked as slowly, and in such small steps, as Bucky was right now. The other man was clearly trying to match Steve’s pace without calling attention to it. Normally, Steve resented people treating him like he was delicate or weak. But this didn’t feel that way, not like it usually did. This was sweet, and subtle, and simply meant as a gesture of kindness. Steve appreciated it - it meant he likely wouldn’t be reaching for his inhaler.

Their walk was quiet, but comfortable, and very short - Bucky hadn’t been wrong when he’d said the restaurant was just a couple of blocks away. It was a cute little Italian trattoria, one Steve had walked by many times and always made a note to go to one day after work (but never had anyone to go with - it seemed too romantic to take Sam or Pegs). Steve could see it was a little crowded, but not so much so that he’d have a lot of trouble hearing Bucky, given his early-onset hearing loss. 

As they walked in, Bucky led Steve to the host stand. “Two?” said the small, blond man behind the stand. Bucky nodded, and immediately the man grabbed two menus and led them to a corner table, away from the larger parties and noise. It was nice - fairy lights and old thrifted chandeliers, brick walls, and well-loved wooden furniture. Steve fought every urge to grab his sketchbook from his bag and draw the scene in front of him, even with a work of art like Bucky sitting across from him. 

“Any allergies or dislikes?” Bucky asked, looking up from a menu. “If not, I’ll order a few things for us to share.”

Steve shook his head quickly, then backtracked. “Willing to try anything, and no allergies that are food related, at least,” he added before wincing internally. It was the first date and he was already offering up his medical history. He needed to breathe and slow down and process that he really was on a dinner date with this gorgeous guy, who deserved a far more intriguing topic of conversation than the fact that he sneezes a lot in spring weather.

“Oh! Any job updates?” Steve asked, hoping it was good news.

“Yeah, I got one,” Bucky replied, a grin spreading on his face. “Security gig at Stark Industries. Some weekend hours, but pretty great pay.” 

“Ah, yeah, Tony’s great. He’ll be, uh, interesting to work for, I imagine.” Steve sipped from a water glass at his place setting.

“You know Tony Stark?” Bucky’s jaw was practically on the floor. “I mean, I met him for all of five seconds in my interview, but you actually know the guy?”

“Yeah, he’s sort of a friend? When I was getting my library degree, I worked in circulation at a Manhattan branch of the NYPL, and Tony was a frequent evening visitor. I usually had to kick him out of study rooms to close up every night, and he made some strange interlibrary loan requests for books on physics and mechanics and the like. Eventually I asked what he was working on, and he’s been talking my ear off ever since. Followed me to Flatbush, even - he drives over here in one of his crazy cars when he needs books and things for a new project.” Steve smiled, thinking of Tony’s frequent library visits. Tony was an odd duck, but it was nice to have a regular that actually appreciated him, especially his research abilities - most folks were incredibly impatient when results weren’t instantaneous. Tony just handed Steve his card and told him to email him the findings. 

“Explains why he poked his head in when I mentioned using library computers to apply. Didn’t say anything though, just introduced himself and started rambling until Ms. Potts cut him off.” Bucky grinned. “Something tells me that’s a regular occurrence for them?”

“You’d be correct,” Steve laughed, just as the waitress came over to take their order. Bucky spoke before Steve even had a chance, ordering a few things in what sounded like near-perfect Italian as well as what Steve thought might be wine, but he wasn’t sure. The waitress nodded, scribbling down quickly and heading straight back to the kitchen. 

Somehow, Steve found himself falling into comfortable, easy conversation with the beautiful man across from him. The wine certainly helped, as did the delicious plates of pasta Bucky had ordered. Steve didn’t know what was in most of them, but he happily dug in, savoring every bite and every word of conversation. He told Bucky about his love of books, stemming from years of childhood illness and hospital visits where books were the only way he could escape his mandated bedrest. At 22, armed with what he determined was a fairly useless liberal arts degree concentrating in English and Literature from Sarah Lawrence, he’d gotten his MLIS and become a public librarian. The hours were good, he liked public service work, and his bosses at both NYPL and Brooklyn Public were very understanding when he got sick and needed time off. 

But it was a far less interesting story than Bucky’s, or at least the details that Bucky was willing to share. Steve absolutely didn’t want to pry, but he hung onto the man’s every word as he talked about enlisting the day he turned 18, hoping to cure the aimlessness he felt watching his friends apply for college and decide their career paths. He’d served for seven years, eventually becoming part of a classified Special Ops squad (which was all he said he could tell Steve without security clearance), losing his arm to an IED, and being honorably discharged last year. He had spent some time at home readjusting (to both life itself as well as life without his left arm), and was starting that Stark security job in a few weeks. He’d come to the library to apply for jobs not only because his laptop had died, but on the recommendation of someone at the VA, where he went to therapy and volunteered on occasion.

“Oh, my friend Sam - the guy from circulation at the library - he’s former Air Force and he’s at the VA pretty often. Surprised you hadn’t met him before coming to the library.” Steve smiled, sipping at the last of his wine. They’d finished off the bottle, and he was feeling warm and happy and comfortable and dear god Bucky had the most kissable lips, it had to be some kind of crime. 

“I recognized him, but we hadn’t met before we talked at circulation. Chatted you up quite a bit, to be honest. Seemed to think we’d work well together?” Steve did his best not to turn red, but clearly it failed, even in the dark, ambient lighting of the restaurant. Bucky chuckled before continuing. “Be embarrassed all you want, punk, but I’d already noticed you. Just took me a bit to get my shit together and ask you out proper.”

Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t blush even deeper.

When the waitress returned to clear their plates and ask about dessert, both men agreed they were too full for sweets (an unusual occurrence for Bucky, he told Steve, as he was someone who often joked he had a second “dessert stomach” and quite a sweet tooth). Steve had a hard time believing that someone as built as Bucky enjoyed dessert very often, if at all, but he was one to talk - he was scrawny no matter what he ate. 

Somehow, without Steve even seeing the waitress or the check, Bucky had managed to pay for the date, insisting he treat since he’d gotten the new job and had been the one to technically ask Steve out. Unable to come up with a better argument, Steve just nodded shyly and thanked him, following him out the door into the crisp autumn evening.

It was a beautiful night, and Steve fell into step beside Bucky, who once again kept a slower, steadier pace without calling attention to it. “I can walk you back to your place, if it’s not far?” Bucky offered, smiling softly at Steve as they walked. His right arm hung at his side, palm open, as if it were an invitation for Steve to maybe hold it. Feeling bold on wine, the smaller man did just that with a smile, clasping his small, thin fingers around Bucky’s tough, strong hands. They were calloused and tanned and yet so gentle holding Steve’s pale hands. Steve leaned into the affection, walking just a bit closer to Bucky as they made their way past the library and into Steve’s part of the neighborhood. 

“This is nice. Never really explored over here before,” Bucky said, looking around at the buildings and shops. “M’from Red Hook originally.”

“No shit,” Steve said, smiling and leaning in further. “I’m also from Brooklyn originally. Bushwick.” Something about Bucky being from Brooklyn, even a different area, made him even more familiar and wonderful. They talked about their childhoods, drastically different - Steve wasn’t physically able to be half the athlete it sounded like Bucky was as a kid, playing lots of sports and defending kids from bullies on the playground. That last bit made Steve grin. “I like that. Never did like bullies. Still don’t - it’s so hard for me not to chew out the mean kids in the youth department, I tend to forget they’re kids.” 

Bucky laughed softly as they rounded a corner onto Steve’s street. “Hey, they probably mistake you for a kid half’o the time, yeah?” he kidded, jokingly jabbing Steve’s arm with his prosthetic, not letting go of the man’s hand. “So which one’s yours?”

Steve slowed to a stop in front of a brick walkup, because of course a stubborn asthmatic would live in a walkup. “Right here.” He looked up at Bucky with wide eyes. “Thanks for tonight. It was great. Next time, my treat?”

“Next time.” Bucky grinned as he repeated those words, stepping to close the gap between them and pressing his lips softly to Steve’s. He tasted like wine and pasta and warmth and Steve couldn’t get enough, but the kiss remained sweet and gentle, and it was over far too soon. Steve whimpered a little as Bucky pulled away, eliciting a laugh from the taller man. “There’s more of that for next time, too. You’re cute, Steve. I’m gonna do this right.” He pulled the smaller man in for a close embrace, kissing the top of his head. “Stay out of trouble,” he warned as he backed away. “I’ll text you.” 

“Goodnight!” Steve called out as Bucky disappeared down the street. Once his date was fully out of sight, he made his way up the stairs, practically out of breath once he was behind his locked apartment door. But it was so, so worth it - he’d be getting another date with Bucky Barnes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update coming within the week, I promise! Leave me love and kudos and I might be encouraged to finish it sooner!

**Author's Note:**

> Hoping to update this at least weekly, but I'm a grad student with two jobs, so no promises. I've also never actually published my fic before, so please leave love, constructive criticism, or links to cute cat videos in the comments for me, babes!


End file.
